


safe in your arms

by vampirevat



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Cuddling, Established Relationship, M/M, Roger being Roger, Schmoop, cute shit, im gay, just the fluff, no beta we die like men, only rated teen for swearing, only wrote this bc i miss my boyfriend, painting nails, rainy day in, soft john, this shits cute okay, wool sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 12:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19829797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampirevat/pseuds/vampirevat
Summary: its a typical rainy day in london and all john deacon wants to do is be with roger.





	safe in your arms

**Author's Note:**

> hey fellow gays its 1:16am and its Dealor time. enjoy this because i miss my boyfriend and cuddling with his cute gay ass and like... he's always so warm so i just kinda projected this on johnathan richard deacon because i resonate with this man. gn fellas enjoy this and please leave kudos and comments!! again, my gay ass craves validation!!!!!

"Woe is me!" John sighs overdramatically, taking Roger's freshly painted hand and slapping it against his forehead along his own hand.

"Ah, fuck Deaky! 'Just painted these, ya twat." Roger angrily swipes his hand back from John's grasp and examines the smeared glittery mess on his nails. He had _just_ finished putting on the second coat of the clear, glittery nail polish on his hands, and it took quite a damn while to get it perfect.

"Sorry, Rog." John says with no sincerity, "I'm just so goddamn sick of this rain." He sighs and looks out the window again, rain pelting relentlessly against every surface outdoors, creating a drumbeat on the ceiling.

John and Roger have a night in today. They have collectively decided to deal with absolutely nothing and to spend the entire rainy day off in Roger's flat, drinking tea by the fire in cozy jumpers and doing absolutely nothing. John had enjoyed the first few hours of the afternoon, dozing and watching Roger do precarious little chores like dusting the counters and straightening out the carpets even though the rest of the flat was an absolute wreck; Scattered papers with notes, scribbles and poor lyrics on them, as well as teacups everywhere and crumbs in every crevice of every object. Furniture out of place, every bed and couch messy with wrinkled blankets and flattened pillows. It was a travesty for John to see how unorganized the place was, but he was too occupied with watching Roger work to focus too hard on the mess.

John enjoys watching Roger's soft face scrunch up with focus, watching every twinkle of light hit his stupidly blue eyes and reflect off the pale pink shine of his lips. He also enjoys how careful and articulate Roger is with his hands when he works with things. How his faintly glittered nails pick up dirty napkins on the floor, an action so simple and miniscule, but performed as gracefully as a ballerina. John loves doing this, no matter how much he may be bored of the rain, he loves staying in Roger's company and getting to watch his little daily performances with awe.

"Help me clean this up, would ya Deaks?" the blond in question gestures to the mess of nail polish and the massive amounts of cotton balls all over the coffee table.

"Yea, of course love," John replies. He leans over before picking up some cotton to land a soft kiss on Roger's cheek, to which Roger smiles fondly at.

John smiles to himself then, feeling warmer than he already is in his big wool jumper. He always felt warm around Roger, even before they got together. Roger has that outer bad-boy, sexy, seemingly emotionless shell, but under all of those layers is a layer of sweetness that is as delicate and sugary as cotton candy.

Roger carefully picks up the cotton as best as he can with his still-wet nails, and hands them to John, collecting them in a plastic bag. While he's cleaning, John starts thinking of what else they should spend the evening doing. Maybe Roger can paint _his_ nails? He doesn't particularly enjoy accessories like these as much as Freddie or Roger, but John has the idea that if he does this he'll have his hands being held by Roger's for a good while. The perfect plan for intimacy without having to explicitly ask for it.

_John Deacon, you are a genius._

They're still pretty new to this. Accepting the whole "it's okay to be with men" thing, especially John. He knew for a while that Roger had always been on the... flamboyant side, and wasn't too surprised to find out that he fancied men just as much as women.

And it took John a long time to figure out he liked the same, and that it's okay.

"Mind painting my nails after we're done here Rog?" John says as casually as he can.

"Of course Deaks," Roger replies, distracted by his own nails and the mess, "let mine dry first, then we'll do yours alright?"

"Yeah, yes, yes of course." John says, relieved and excited.

After a few more minutes of cleaning and Roger forcefully blowing air onto his nails, he sits John down on a couch cushion on the floor and takes his hands to begin filing them. John's heart bumps heavily in his ribcage as he can hardly contain the bubbly warmness he feels from just getting to have Roger hold his hands. He smiles at the way Roger carefully holds one of John's long fingers with a few of his smaller ones to carefully clean it.

"You alright there, Deaks?"

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh nothing love, nothing at all"

.

John wakes up by feeling spit cooling on the right side of his face, gross as he moves his head up from the warm surface it was resting against. He looks up to realize he had fallen asleep on Roger's chest after he had finished getting his nails painted. Roger is peacefully still asleep, long lashes laying delicately against his pinked cheekbones. His arms are carefully wrapped around John's body, which is laying on top of his own, cuddling as best they can on the small couch.

Carefully, John leans up slightly to press a sweet, small kiss to Roger's slightly parted peach lips, his button nose twitching at John's puffy hair tickling it.

"'Love you Rog." John all but whispers.

"Love you too Deaks." a groggy whisper replies.

John smiles to himself, warm as can be, feeling light as a cloud.

He feels soft. Safe.


End file.
